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That smile had pierced into his chest.
When he had taken her shopping for a dress to wear for his cousin’s wedding, he’d prepared himself for a fight. When he’d explained, keeping his tone even, that she was only attending the wedding because of him and therefore it was only right he pay for her dress she had taken him by surprise by actually agreeing.
She hadn’t let him buy her anything else though, and he hadn’t argued the point. Carrie had a fierce independent streak he admired even if he did find it infuriating. He no longer found it insulting. There was a reason for it and sooner or later he would discover what that was.
She reappeared with the wine at the exact moment he judged the steaks to be cooked.
At the table he put the steaks on their respective plates and sat down, reaching for the wine.
She surprised him again by allowing him to pour her a glass. The only alcohol she had shared with him had been his Scotch the night the truth had come out.
He held his glass out. ‘Yamas.’ At her blank expression, he said, ‘It means good health.’
She chinked her glass to his and took a sip of her wine. Her eyes widened a touch. ‘I’m not a big fan of white wine but this is nice.’
‘I should hope so for the price I paid for it,’ he said drily. ‘I have it imported directly to all my homes. This crate arrived while we were shopping.’
She had another sip. ‘This really is lovely. And you have it imported to all your homes?’
He shook his head self-mockingly. ‘I don’t take drugs, I no longer smoke…good quality wine and Scotch are my only vices.’
‘You used to smoke?’
‘Something else your investigations into me didn’t reveal?’
As he finished the question with a wink, Carrie couldn’t help but smile.
She could hardly believe they’d reached a place where they could joke about her attempts to investigate him. Both of them.
It was all down to Andreas. He’d rumbled her, had his fun while he punished her, then insisted she marry him to put things right but he wasn’t holding a grudge. He wasn’t one to hold a grudge but that, she suspected, was because he didn’t need to. If a problem arose he fixed it straight away with whatever means he thought necessary.
He was no angel but by no means was he a monster like most of the rich men she’d dealt with through the years. When he wanted something done he expected it to be done immediately, patience was not his strong point, but he wasn’t spoilt. Considering the wealth he’d accrued he was surprisingly grounded.
‘I smoked when I was a teenager. I was obsessed with everything American and old seventies movies where the cool heroes always smoked and rode motorcycles. I wanted to be Steve McQueen.’ He burst into laughter. ‘The closest I could afford to a motorcycle was a beaten-up old scooter but cigarettes were easy to come by. I thought I was the coolest kid in Gaios, driving around on that pile of junk without a helmet and a cigarette hanging from my mouth. I turned my poor mother’s hair white.’
His self-mockery and evident amusement were infectious and Carrie found herself laughing at the image he’d painted.
When she had set out on this endeavour she hadn’t suspected for a minute that Andreas could be such good company. Their one conversation on the phone all those years ago had been short and to the point, his tone what you would expect if speaking to a bank manager. That one time she had seen him outside the headmistress’s office he’d oozed menacing power. He’d frightened her.
Yes, Andreas had a dark side but she had come to realise that it only came out when people he loved were threatened.
What would it be like to be loved by this man…?
She would not allow her thoughts to go down that road.
Andreas was rich and powerful. He had charm and looks. He was everything she hated, everything she feared.
But he’d been honest about everything. He wanted his freedom. What they were sharing here, now, was pure circumstance. What she felt for him was a result of the forced proximity she’d been thrown into. When this was all over she would walk away. She wouldn’t give this strange chemistry another thought. He would be out of sight and out of mind.
But right here and now he was in her sight and completely filling her mind.
Putting her knife and fork together, she pushed her plate away, put her elbow on the table and rested her chin on her hand. She’d eaten half of the steak he’d cremated for her but had no recollection of it, too caught up in listening to Andreas’s staccato voice. ‘You sound like you were a right tearaway as a child.’
‘I was the bane of my parents’ life,’ he admitted unrepentantly, ‘but also the apple of their eye so I got away with murder.’
